Kill! Kill! Kill!
by Novoux
Summary: Wandering hands may linger... Rated for sexual content; Shizaya. For PendulumDeath.
1. Freeze

Stupid, stupid Shizu-chan. Making everything so _difficult,_ so hard to forget the fact that the ache throughout his body is almost _pleasant_ in every way it shouldn't be. His pants are too tight, his jacket is too hot, everything is so—_unbearable_—irritating. Shizu-chan shouldn't be playing this game as well as he does and he still manages it all, being a beast and a monster when the snarl rips his lips and Izaya knows the game is beginning. It already has begun at this rate, maybe they're working to colliding like stars at the speed of frustration and too hot to leave without an explosive collision. All Shizu-chan's fault as he sees it, observing with a scarily accurate representation of how tight his pants really are and how bittersweet the rub of Shizu-chan's palm is on his half-hard erection.

Even the glare in Shizu-chan's eyes is burning hot and dipping into ice cold when his hand is gone and he grabs a light pole, uprooting it from the street. Izaya has to take a step back to remember where he is—focus, this is ridiculous getting hung up over _nothing_—and then take off running, calling "Shizu-chan~!" while he tries to regain his breath and adjust to sprint with something hard and heavy between his skinny legs. And the beast's—_wonderful_—horrible job of turning him on and then before he can give any relief, the stupid protozoan has the street crumbling beneath his feet and Izaya too breathless to spit another insult. It's useless, really, when Shizu-chan is so terribly good at getting him turned on at the display of strength and grinding his enormous hands against Izaya until it hurts.

And it hurts, _bad._ Darting away from another trash can flying at him he can hear the beast yelling something, feeling his own breaths roaring in his ears while his blood furiously pounds. The sensation is like an icy cold burn applied to his groin, right where it stings and makes him writhe. Even worse when Izaya knows how much of a masochist he is and having a _beast_ turn him on is not an achievement he can be proud of.

The logical explanation for getting out of this would be ignoring it, right? Just stop thinking, force himself to run a little faster and damn that growl in Shizu-chan's voice does _not_ do anything to him at all. Not when he nearly misses a sharp turn and Shizuo's hands are so close to grabbing him, he can't think of a name to call the blond but a groan just behind his lips. Just the brush of fingers on his arm, rough enough to leave marks heavy enough to bruise and lurching forward at the feel of when he shoves Shizu-chan's fingers off with his icy hands, making a—_delicious_—burn of contrast tingling where the newest bruises are.

Stumbling to his apartment after just escaping Shizu-chan makes Izaya come to realize how much trouble he's in, especially when it hurts to breathe after clipping too many dangerous turns one too many times. It's not fair at all, not when Izaya can see Namie raising her eyebrow (what's she looking at?) at him when he slides against the cool side of the door, breaths starting to slow.

Without a word his secretary gets up, a pointed glare settling on her angry face marred by her frowning and she scowls, grabbing her things and making sure to be as loud as possible. "Go take care of _that._ I'm done for the day." When he looks to where she gestures with that cold stare of her eyes, he sees that there is quite the prominent bulge in his pants.

_Shit._

"Shizu-chan," Izaya decides a cold shower may be best at this point, after Namie slams the door behind him and he can feel himself throbbing in the confines of his dark jeans. "You don't play fair."

* * *

_Let's play a game, Pendulum. It's my turn._

_Thank you for reading._


	2. Numbing Chill

"I…hah," Izaya groans against the wall and slams his fist against the wet tile, cold and a full-body shudder unraveling down his spine. "H-hate you, Sh-_Shizu-_ chan." Sweat slicks down his forehead, mixing with the cold of shower water and even though he has scrubbed himself clean, the rise of an obvious _prominent _erection in between his legs, rock hard and thickened with blood.

This has got to be the worst. Every time he breathes in the sharp rasp that comes from shivering and being too hot, his dick jumps with the harder pulse of his heart jumping into his ribs. Shivering, Izaya scrapes his nails against his thigh and groans to himself, knowing that this side effect of _whatever _this game has become with Shizu-chan's stupid haughty smirk. Namely the one that belongs to him and makes his throat dry and his body shock into stillness, frozen solid when he feels the ghost of Shizu-chan touching him. Rubbing against him dry, growling and snarling like an animal and disgusting with his foaming mouth so so so close to him, hot and melting him down to the core with the glare that shocks him with icy fingers, still hovering above his skin. Freezing icy shocks of anger and pure agony frustration building up with not relieving the pressure low in his abdomen make Izaya realize how cold he is from sitting in his shower for this long.

"Sh-Shizu," Izaya groans, back directly under the icy spray and feeling the shivers growing under his prickly skin and making his fingers wrinkle with soaking it all up. His skin tints an icy purple, lips blue when he chews on them and nothing is helping the denial between his legs and squeezing tightly when he tries to breathe in ragged breaths. He can _easily_ imagine the hands of the beast on him, squeezing and touching and caressing just teasingly over his groin and throbbing hot, a contrast to his cold skin and feeling the temperature of a beast sear into his skin.

Which isn't okay at all, because this is a monster he's fantasizing about—unwillingly, he may as well add as he spits raw cold and turns off the shower, too late now to fix himself and too cold to try. Wrapping a towel around himself he can't help the sneer of contempt that chisels into his blue lips, showing the shudders coming from the icy fingers on his back when he glances into the mirror. And the stupid thing taunts him, laughing _mercilessly _when he can't make his body stop _thinking _about every touch over the past couple of weeks, worsening as he realizes that the sizzling temperatures affect more than the new injuries he gains.

His brain is iced over, frozen and thick in ice and denial, wrapping over himself tightly like his towel and shivering again, hating how his erection jumps and especially when the towel rubs against a nipple, making the pain sear straight down into his groin. Moaning into his hand, Izaya bites the skin hard when he realizes what he's just done and snarls to himself, disgusted with the reflection of a thawed man under the undesirable touch of a monster. How can a monster turn him into something like this? A god, reduced to nothing but a fucking puddle, not paying attention as often and getting harder than he's felt in a long time.

Izaya leans against his counter, studying himself in his reflection and feeling his breath crystallize against his skin. What aches the most is feeling Shizu-chan's larger hands, roaming over him and never touching the strain of his erection, burning him with a _feverish _flush crawling up his neck and spilling onto his cheeks.

Perhaps, then, in order to deal with this, Izaya should make an arrangement with the monster in question.

* * *

_This is why no one tries to troll me. Because it hurts, waiting, doesn't it?_

_Thank you for reading._


	3. Penetrating Arctic

Fortunately, Izaya doesn't have to make much of a choice as he has to now with the burning heat threatening to melt him from the inside out. Only leave him as a steaming puddle on the floor, just because of the stupid scorching smirk that heats him up hard like the stupid beast's resolve. Hands, roaming all over him whenever they fight and clash, hot and searing into his flesh like brands and Izaya _despises_ how _far_ close Shizuo's heavy breaths weigh on his throat, puffing on sweat-stained skin, his tongue over his lips and teeth bared back in a feral smile, a declaration burning into Izaya's skin.

_Mine._

A shiver runs down his spine with the cold chill unable to keep _that_ part of him down, still hanging proudly between his legs and close to spitting precome from the tip, eying it warily from his chair at his desk. Even with the towel open in between his legs he can feet the chill setting back into his skin, contrasting heavily with the craving frustration of wanting to get his erection to flag and cool off instead of _scream_ demand for attention. Just from the memory of the stupid beast's hands, sliding up his thighs and burning through the layers of clothes he wears, into the dribble of clear precome leaking down the length of his cock, shivering again at the feeling of being too turned on for his own good.

This is impossible. _Shizu-chan_ is impossible for being that annoying, so _perverse_ frustrating to make Izaya _painfully_ hard hate him even more. And with those stupid brown eyes, large and zeroed in on Izaya when he gives chase, from the stride of muscles rippling underneath the skin and—

_Fuck._

There may never be a fate worse than this. No, Izaya can't agree on anything else (being hit by a truck would be _so_ much better) when his fingers dance, cold pinpricks of ice and his vision going white, just feeling the burn of his erection standing at attention, _needing_ demanding to be touched.

Izaya glances at his erection, never feeling quite so turned on that his ass _throbs_ like he's a disgraceful _bitch__ in heat._ It's certainly a new tactic, a sudden change of pace in the game he and Shizu-chan play, going at it like cats and dogs.

With new meanings as well, it seems.

His fingers circle the burning flesh around his groin, almost numb from being ignored for too long and his shirt brushes against a hard nipple, forcing a shudder and the immediate wired shut reaction of his teeth clenching to get it to stop. Lazy loops on his pelvis, over his hips and nearly bucking up when his fingers come to a pulse point, eyes dilating to explosive feelings of fire and ice.

"Shizu-_ch-ah-an,_" his fingers loop figure eights around his erection, not wanting to admit—not wanting to do this by _himself._ There has got to be a way around this, something he can do to stop thinking about Shizu-chan enough to come to mind, hard muscle and hot flesh colliding and shooting rockets of ice shards down his spine.

Stupid, stupid Shizu-chan, making him so hard and then leaving him with icy fingers, _frigid_ over the skin of his balls and wanting to _scream_ hiss right then and there when they slide up his shaft.

Oh, he needs this _badly._

* * *

_Another update! Hooray! Anyway, the reason why this has some awkward sentences is because of the original having words struck out, which FF doesn't support the format for. Oops?_

_Thank you for reading._


	4. Permafrost

"Shizu-chan~!" Oh _fuck._

So not only is Shizu-chan available today, out in the hot heat of a Tokyo summer and dressed in that stiff uniform of his, but Izaya notices something quite peculiar about the beast. That would happen to freeze him in place, ice in his veins and every pounding thump in his chest breaking against bone-deep chills. It's just not _fair_ to be so fucking stupidly explicit sucking on a goddamn ice pop. A red one, just to make it even worse. And his cheeks are a pale pink color, starting to bud from the heat getting to him and the sweat dripping down his—

_Shit._

The instant the beast hears his nickname, not knowing currently how frustrating it is that Izaya's pants are already getting tight and he can't believe himself, frozen to the spot when those molten eyes are on him and they contrast so nicely with the ice pop stuck in one cheek. A line of saliva and sugary melted flavored ice trickles down the _shaft_ of the damn thing, dripping onto Shizu-chan's hand and Izaya can feel the groan that his dick squeezes itself around, already starting to feel as if he's going to burst with how _hot_ he is down _there_ compared to the frigid temperature of the rest of his skin just where his fingers start to sweat with a cold chill.

Some things in this life just don't make any sense. Shizu-chan and that damn ice pop is one of those things.

Izaya swallows thickly, watching that line of saliva on Shizu-chan's fingers and he forces himself to take away his heated gaze, back to an icy smirk covering the shudder that slips down the cracks of his spine. He can't breathe, not with the heat of the glare coming right back at him and it's _burning_ him alive, melting the frigid look he's been trying to keep so perfected.

_"I-za-ya!"_ Well, if he isn't harder than permafrost then he certainly is now. Much harder than comfortable, which more than likely shows the bulge in his tight jeans and Shizu-chan really should be looking a little lower with that fucking ice pop stuck in his mouth like _that._

But he can't have that little display out in the open. Not with that senpai of Shizu-chan's and that anxious look on his face, or Shizu-chan's look of fury that melts every last cold front Izaya has to put up. So he takes the initiative, dick throbbing and _spitting_ precome in his pants when that beast steps forward and the ground shudders through his legs. Turning on his heels means knowing the stretch and burn of something painful, horrible and the imagery of that ice pop still in Shizuo's hand even after it hits the ground with a soft plop and melts away like the rest of Izaya's sanity. It wasn't there in the first place, so it's not going to matter unless if he starts running like he is now and regretting every painful step it takes to get _somewhere_ away from an audience.

"Get back here, flea bastard!" Shizuo's teeth snap in the stale air, the hot summer making the heat just about unbearable and a poor choice for jeans. But these jeans are important, Izaya reminds himself grimly, though he feels the regret clawing at his lower belly with the anticipation starting to reach dangerously unpleasant levels.

Izaya's head turns back, he can't help his lack of self-control and he's so painfully hard it hurts to breathe. What he sees is an angry beast, following him into the more secluded area—_finally_—where he can take all that he wants and let himself melt just to get that rough touch of fingers and inside of _him._

He grins, feral and raw and (_desperate)_ waiting for more. "Catch me if you can, Shizu-chan!"

* * *

_Thank you for reading._


	5. Raw Ice

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" Music to his ears. Or dick, whichever works. Just as his blood's pounding and threatening to burst from his skin the cold shivers never stop coming, so long as Shizu-chan breaks the ground he walks on. It's not considered a turn-on, but Izaya's straining erection has decided it _is _and that leads to his penis disagreeing with the whole running away and surviving thing. "I'll kill you, I'll kill you!" Those words are hot and melt right to the core in his ears, stinging and buzzing like his lips he's been biting to keep himself quiet for once.

Usually he wouldn't—today's much different, seeing as if he dares to speak he may as well lose it. So close, hooking down an alleyway and his legs are _screaming _to give up, just let him have what he wants and what he (_needs__) _can't stand waiting for. Shizu-chan is just so close, heat radiating off him like an animal and it's hard not to look, remembering that sinful image of an ice pop in the corner of his mouth. Of course the beast would play oblivious, seeing as Izaya's tripping over himself—swearing a colorful frosty string of slurs—to reach where he needs to be. Shizu-chan is just so _frustrating _and his dick can't take it anymore.

He slams against a wall, tearing the skin of his palms open knowing he's going to regret it but his blood is hot and he's close to losing his sanity.

The thunk of a metal object embedding itself into the brick wall above him shoots spikes of fire in his veins, blood pounding in his ears. The moment he looks up Shizu-chan's eyes are on him and _alive _with that predatory look, anger smeared over his face and tightening in his shoulders when he stands a little taller. Izaya holds his hands up to his head, baring his blood palms with a mocking sign of surrender as Shizu-chan makes his way over, dick (_spitting)_ leaking precome into his stained and strained jeans he can only imagine Shizu-chan sees.

A purr settles in his throat at the thought, a smirk curving into laughter as his shoulders shake when Shizuo's breaths are fanning over him and hands grab his wrists in a crushing grip. He gasps, feeling the bones in his wrists threaten to break under the force of those fingers numbly confirming he's a masochist, going by how his dick is compared to the chill of the rest of his skin.

"Kill, kill, kill," Shizuo growls, low tone vibrating in his throat and Izaya puffs a laugh, his entire body shaking and he can't stop the thrill that shoots through him. "You stupid fucking louse, I'll kill you for sure."

"Mmh, sure about that, Shizu-chan?" Izaya (_grinds)_ presses his hips against Shizuo's in a bold move, ice down his spine chilling his bones and freezing him in place. But the delicious surprise comes when his erection, fully hard and pounding mercilessly within the confines of his jeans meets even _harder _flesh, straining the front of that stupid bartender's uniform. Izaya can't help the chortle that grazes his throat, curling his fingers as his head tilts to the side and his entire body is slammed back into the wall with another feral growl ringing in his ears.

"You're disgusting, you fucking piece of shit!" Shizuo moves to get off of him, stop pressing the hard bulge into Izaya but no, that's not part of the plan. Izaya stresses one of his wrists, knowing Shizu-chan's grip burns fire in to him and he's going to melt, he's sure of it—if he doesn't explode first. "You fucking perverted flea!"

Izaya's tongue darts out to wet his lips, watching Shizu-chan's eyes on him all the while and he may as well die from how hot his flesh is burning. Shizu-chan's gaze is _sweltering_ and he can't breathe, let alone think as the blood pounds harder into his ears.

"Ne, but I'm not the only pervert, Shizu-chan...?" Izaya's tongue curls around the lilt in his voice, drunk off the scent of a monster and black diamonds are in his eyes from the heat, muting everything else and numbly aware of how _much _this beast is getting to him. "Have some fun with me, ne? You want this just as much as I do."

He looks torn, so cute and his lower lip is tantalizing when it folds under his teeth, thoughts flashing over his face. Izaya waits, swallowing thickly and he doesn't _have _all _damn _day for this idiot to make up his mind. He wants this now, and so he's going to get it.

As soon as Izaya's lips press to the monster's, he knows he's intoxicated.

* * *

_Early update because why not._

_Thank you for reading._


	6. Bitter Cold

It should make sense that he's practically (_begged)_ been waiting for this. The lightning fast reflexes of a monster are something he finds to be a delightful surprise, so long as he could just _breathe_ without needing air and more of the tongue that slips into his mouth, hot and searing every taste he grabs in the curves of his own. And Shizu-chan isn't very complacent, taking over the kiss and while Izaya would like to protest this motion he's not at all discontented with the rough force of the kiss taking him by force. It's only a fraction of what he wants and what he _needs _(there's no point denying it now if he doesn't have to admit it) to happen when it's just not moving fast enough for his tastes. Shizu-chan is just so adorably torn between wanting this as much as Izaya does and thinking that he shouldn't have a taste of what's being offered to him.

A very rare, one time only offer. So he better make himself useful because the icy pinpricks in Izaya's wrists still tingle with the sense of numbness digging into his veins when Shizu-chan tightens his grip and doesn't make any move to do something much more satisfying. Izaya's a masochist, purely confirmed when he slips up and (_grinds)_ presses himself into Shizuo's hips, digging in as much as he possibly can to the delicious penetrating feel of friction forcing precome to stain his jeans even more. It's a bad day to wear them and Shizu-chan should be thankful for his actions of only making everything harder for himself, since this stupid game is too addictive to let go of once he's started.

Shizuo's tongue is hot and fiery, stabbing into his mouth and stealing his tongue in one chilled breath over tanned skin in an experimental thrust and not even the courtesy of a little play. No, Shizu-chan kisses like he is—straight to the point, dominating and painfully oblivious of the effects it has when heat meets chill and Izaya can feel it more at an alarming rate of _melting_ just above freezing point. So long as he pins Izaya's tongue down and hot saliva forces its way into Izaya's mouth he can be dizzying addictive to taste and feel with as little contact as is (frustratingly) between them.

Already his head is filling up with steam and the plan—what _plan—_is slipping through his fingers, trickling down the side of his chin because Shizu-chan's tongue is rough and gasping only makes it harder to breathe. Izaya doesn't feel the need for air, not as his lungs burn for it and the rest of him is melting for one stupid monster to get a clue and _stop _just holding his wrists. Otherwise this is going to be painful for both of them and he can guarantee it if he doesn't get what he wants.

"Sh-Shizu-chan—!" Izaya groans, breath hitching on a slippery gasp enunciating the buzz in his head down to his painfully tight pants. Only the beast growls, hot and molten with the sliver of brown under blue shades Izaya can see when he tries to squirm a little more.

"Kill, kill, kill," Izaya can taste the unexpected bitterness on his tongue, a break from the sweet relish of hot sweat and skin creating a shock over the raw feeling of his skin being exposed to too much clothing and not enough of those hands. The growl that seals his mouth in a searing kiss knocks the breath out of him, strangling him with the heat he's not so used to being out of control, but that's how the monster always is.

"_Later," _Izaya forces his head away, seeing black and stars freezing into tiny pinpoint dots that burst with the sudden dance of fingers over his wrists. Accompanied by a heated glare, he knows he has the beast's attention with what little self-control he has (left.) "But not here, ne, Sh-Shizu-chan...?"

Something is very wrong with the way he's gasping as soon as the beast is off of him and he's suddenly dunked in a bath of icy cold chill, no amount of the glare directed at him making it any more bearable and he's _itching _to feel the burn of playing with fire.

"I fucking hate you, shitty louse." Hot, simmering, _boiling _sweet words turning sour as they roll over the tongue that tastes like Popsicles and bittersweet.

Well, it's not a no, for starters.

"Shall we...?" Izaya takes the first step and Shizu-chan decides he's had enough waiting, because Izaya finds himself trapped against the wall and a glare of blistering desire.

He's certainly not the only one to feel the same.

* * *

_Hey Mama, I heard you weren't writing porns no more in Hito Rabu._

_I'll take it from here, girl. ;D_

_Thank you for reading._


End file.
